There is a window with a viewAnd a lion with a luteWho's quite the minstrelThere is a ship out in the harborWith a shipment of all spoonsForks could lead to violenceAnd it's mast is a shapeThat wraps around all it's cornersThat I will call a globeAnd our ship it flies the highestPlucked upwards by six ladiesAll with golden locksAll with golden locksAll with golden locksAll with golden locks